


So if I stumble just a bit trying to say what's on my mind? Please excuse me cause I never felt the way that I feel inside

by wolfwithwoodenteeth



Series: I may have finally found my dream come true [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Cunnilingus, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-23 23:29:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13798605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfwithwoodenteeth/pseuds/wolfwithwoodenteeth
Summary: Jon and Sansa are wed to keep the North united.Sansa is trying to keep her expectations for the wedding night low, struggling with confusing feelings for a man who was still her half-brother less than a moon ago...Jon may surprise her yet...Written for Day 4 of 31 Days of Jonsa - BeddingTitle from 'Another You' by Brian McKnight





	So if I stumble just a bit trying to say what's on my mind? Please excuse me cause I never felt the way that I feel inside

There had been no bedding ceremony. Sansa had told herself she'd have to accept, that it was simply part of a wedding, and with their unusual history, their bannermen would surely insist on it. But Jon had forbidden it.

It was just one of those things which made her heart overflow with love for him. She was reluctant to examine that love too closely. Sometimes she feared her feelings for him had developed beyond anything sisterly a very long time ago, before the truth had been revealed.

Even though wedding a secret prince sounded exactly like it could have happened in a song, she knew the truth was too different from anything she'd ever imagined when she was still a stupid young girl. From now on, it would be even more vital to keep her true feelings safely locked away and just stick to her duties as his wife.

She'd retreated to her chambers as soon as the feast was well underway and Jon was supposed to join her soon, but waiting for him seemed to last forever.

She'd already taken the pins out of her hair and unravelled her braids, brushing her tresses until they were shining like copper, just to have something on her hands to calm her nerves. She'd taken off her dress, leaving only her shift, even removing her smallclothes to make it easier for him. 

There was a knock on the door, but Jon didn't wait for an answer before he entered, he was simply announcing his presence. He stood by the door for a moment, moving to the table by the hearth to remove his boots and his doublet before joining her where she was sitting on the bed.

The mattress dipped under his weight and he released a long sigh. She risked a glance at him. He was already looking at her, hands braced on his knees. He offered her a half-smile and averted his eyes.

What was he waiting for? Was he expecting her to lie back or remove her shift? He wasn't making any attempts to take off any more of his own clothes.

"Do you need help undressing?" she asked. As soon as the words left her mouth, she bit her tongue, afraid it had been the wrong thing to say.

He didn't laugh, he didn't even look at her. Suddenly, he reached for her hand, gently taking it in his own much larger one. She looked up, meeting his eyes.

"Sansa," he began. "We don't have to do this tonight, if you're not ready. We can wait."

She blinked at him, puzzled by his words. "But shouldn't we? They'll want to inspect the sheets. Winterfell needs an heir," she started babbling, the pitch of her voice rising. 

"I said we can wait," he insisted. "We won't do anything you don't want to do." He released her hand and rose, starting to walk to his side of the bed. "Goodnight, Sansa."

"I want to try," she whispered, looking up at him expectantly.

He stopped and turned. He was still close enough for her to see his eyes widen in surprise. He gulped. "You do?" he choked out.

She nodded once, not trusting her own voice. He sat back down next to her. He reached out to tuck some hair behind her ear, brushing her cheekbone with his knuckles and then tracing the shape of her lips with the rough pad of his thumb.

Her heart stuttered and her breathing hitched. Why was he doing this, sending all of these odd sensations through her body? She pushed herself back on the bed until she was lying flat on her back.

He twisted around to look at her and climbed up after her. He propped himself up on his elbow, lying next to her on his side. "Alright," he said. "What do you want to try?"

She blinked.  _I want to kiss you,_ she thought.  _I want you to hold me and tell me you love me._ But that could never be. She swallowed, raising her chin. "I- I don't know. I don't know anything about..."

She reached for the hem of her shift, hiking it midway up her thighs, and lay down again. "Just do what you're supposed to do," she told him, squeezing her eyes shut.

She waited, but he didn't climb on top of her, nor did he spread her legs or make any other attempt to proceed.

"Sansa," he whispered, and she flinched, realizing her entire body had tensed up. "Sansa," he repeated, and she opened her eyes to find him staring down at her with an odd look in his eyes and his brows knitted together. 

He pulled his lips in, swallowing heavily. "Not like this," he whispered.

She tried to fight back the tears. She was doing this all wrong, scaring him off. She held his gaze, waiting for him to leave and return to his own chambers. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Please," he said, taking her hand again. "Please, don't say that." He pressed his lips to her palm. They were so soft compared to his prickly beard.

"I want to do this right," he declared in a rough voice. "I want to make it good for you."

She gulped and licked her lips, not sure how to respond.

"Will you let me try?" he asked, a serious frown on his face. 

She nodded, no more breath left in her.

He kissed her palm again, dragging his lips down to her wrist, flicking his tongue out to run it over the skin there.

"Do you like that?" he asked.

"Yes," she breathed, ignoring her confusion.

"I could kiss you like that in other places," he told her. "Would you like that?"

She tried to imagine it, taking a deep breath to gather her courage. "Show me," she whispered.

He cupped the side of her face and dropped his head to the crook of her neck, pressing his lips to the spot just below her ear, repeating the kiss until he was sucking on her skin.

"Oh," she moaned in surprise, eyes fluttering closed.

He nibbled at her earlobe, trailing his lips along the line of her jaw, nipping at her chin before he moved up to nudge her nose with his own, lips hovering over her mouth. "Good?" he asked, and she could feel and taste his breath.

She opened her eyes, meeting his dark ones and nodded, licking her lips.

He slid the hand on her face down, tilting her chin back to lick a stripe up her throat. He rolled on top of her, bracing his weight on his arms, pushing her legs apart with one knee.

He untied the lacings of her shift, revealing more skin for his mouth to explore. He worked thoroughly, showering every inch with attention, his beard and teeth scraping and grazing, his lips and tongue soothing and caressing.

But when his hands tried to push the fabric of her shift aside to bare her bosom, her own hands flew up to cover herself.

He studied her face and asked: "No?"

She shook her head, eyes nervously flitting away from his, but he only bent down to plant a kiss on her cheekbone, smoothing her hair back from her face.

Tentatively she released her shift and laced her fingers through his curls, guiding his head back to the top of her sternum.

He chuckled and obeyed eagerly, continuing to kiss her. He moved his mouth down and closed his lips over her right nipple through the fabric of her shift. He sucked as his hand gently cupped her other breast.

When he flicked his tongue and his thumb over her nipples, she almost wished she'd let him bare her, but she simply wasn't ready for that.

"You like that?" he murmured.

"Yes!" she gasped.

He pulled back to blow hot air on the damp material covering her right breast, sending a shiver down her spine and into the pit of her stomach. He switched sides, making her whimper and arch her back into his touch, her fingers tightening in his curls.

He slid his hands down her sides until they were resting on her hips, leaving a trail of kisses down her belly. His hands slipped under the hem of her shift, pushing it up over her hips, and he groaned.

He lowered himself onto his stomach and turned his head to kiss the inside of her thigh. He used his hands to push her legs further apart, leaving them under her knees for support, and pressed a sloppier kiss to the same spot, his beard roughly scraping her sensitive flesh.

She jerked at the sensation and at the realization how close his face was to her peach, trying to close her thighs. It wasn't supposed to be there. 

"It's alright, sweet girl. I only want to make you feel good," he tried to soothe her, kissing her mound. "Will you please let me?"

She pushed herself up on her elbows to get a better look at his face. "What are you going to do?"

He met her gaze. "I just want to kiss you here, is all," he told her, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "Do you trust me?"

She supposed she did. Everything he'd done so far had felt nice, and she did want to please him. She nodded.

Feeling his lips and tongue down there was too awkward and watching him made her cheeks flush with heat. 

She lay back, squeezing her eyes shut at the sight of his head bobbing up and down between her thighs, still bothered by the obscene sounds his mouth was making.

He slid his hands up the undersides of her thighs and crooned: "Relax, sweet girl, just let me take care of you."

His lips closed over a delightful little spot. It felt unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. Pleasure coiled low in her belly, pulling her body as taut as a bowstring, drawing shamefully wanton cries from her lips.

She shifted, uncomfortable with the unfamiliarity of it all, making Jon hum into her sensitive flesh: "Don't fight it, just give in, Sansa." He reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together.

Finally she surrendered to the feeling, the tension inside her body building beyond the point she would have thought bearable, driving her even further, and then it snapped and she was floating on a cloud of ecstasy. 

Her fingers were tightly twisted into the furs and around Jon's hand, her thighs clasped shut around his ears, and then she slumped back against the mattress, a sob breaking free from her throat at the buzz that left her entire body on edge.

Jon gathered her in his arms, soothing that overly sensitive sensation holding her in its power. It was all too much and for a couple of moments, his embrace was the only thing keeping her together.

She strained to open her eyes, finding him smiling at her. He kissed her forehead and chuckled: "You should try to get some sleep."

She blinked. "But you haven't- Don't you need...?" She couldn't make herself say it.

"Did you enjoy it?" he asked her.

She averted her eyes, feeling the blood rise to her cheeks again. "I did," she whispered.

"Then for now, that's enough for me," he answered her.

Part of her tried to hold on to consciousness, desperate to decipher the meaning behind those words, but she was already drifting off, her heavy eyelids making any attempt at thinking useless.

 


End file.
